


the place where you belong

by azurewatabi



Series: light 'em up (and watch it all burn) [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, gangsta!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 05:00:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3716032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azurewatabi/pseuds/azurewatabi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[ gangsta!AU; the world beneath our feet ]</p><p>Monster, the man had wanted to call him. A monster made only to kill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the place where you belong

**Author's Note:**

> my debut work on ao3 and it's for this blasted gangsta!au that's taken over my life, of course it is. this is just an introspective (kinda) piece on kagami in this verse so, very little in terms of plot or anything, really ;; but i hope you enjoy it anyways!
> 
> [tumblr version](http://wengamicchi.tumblr.com/post/115995174980/the-place-where-you-belong-840-words-gangsta-au) && [general tumblr hc post](http://wengamicchi.tumblr.com/post/115810445635/so-a-group-of-twitter-friends-and-i-got-really)

Blood.

Thick, slippery, and _warm_ —it coats Kagami’s fingers, the entire length of his blade, with the overpowering bitter smell of metal, enough to make him wrinkle his nose. He rubs at a trail of blood that slides down the side of his face with the back of an equally bloodied hand, smudges it with the callousness of someone who just doesn’t care.

(About the bodies littering the floor, about the shake in his limbs as he lunges into another attack, deadly in grace.

None of it. None of it matters.

It’s not his blood anyways.)

There’s a steady pounding in his head that matches with the lurches of his heartbeat, loud and unforgiving and deafening only to him in the silence of his mind. And it’s always there, this sudden vacuum of a space, a void that makes him think, think about the things he doesn’t have time to think about, doesn’t _want_ to think about—

(An ambush from behind, badly concealed and stupidly obvious in intention, as he spins with but a pivot of his foot, sword slicing through air and flesh as it was made to do—)

—because he has _better_ things to do, better things to kill. And that’s just it, isn’t it, with the poison that’s running through his veins like liquid gold, he just wants to kill, can’t even remember why he was here in the first place other than that (expect that he can, he always could).

His lips crack open on a smile, all sorts of mad and bloodthirsty. These guys were better than he had initially given them credit for, were lasting a whole lot _longer_ than Kagami thought they would; but weak is still weak, and within short minutes he’d already dwindled the attacking force to it’s last, lone survivor. Pity, really, it’d only just started getting fun.

“S-stop, don’t hurt me—” the man says as he tries to crawl back on all fours, frantically searching for an escape route that isn’t there. The erratic shuffling of rubber soles against concrete gets a little irritating.

Kagami advances in on the trail end of a chuckle, taking some possibly morbid interest in hearing his prey flinch (pathetic, powerless, _give me someone stronger already_ —) with each step. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

The man quietens, as if to consider any truth in the statement, and god, isn’t this just the cherry topping on the metaphorical cake that he still thinks Kagami will let him _go_? Not without a least a few limbs missing, usually, but…

“But I can’t let you live, either,” Kagami continues as he brandishes his sword again to the sound of realisation finally hitting home. “I’ve got orders too, you know.”

“Y-you won’t get away with this! Do you even know w-who I work for?! You kill me a-and there’ll just be more coming! So don’t come any closer, you damn mo—”

A flash of crimson, fatal, and the rest of the sentence (the word) dies on a spluttering gurgle as Kagami impales the tip of his sword into the man’s chest with but a flick of his wrist. And he listens, with rapt apathy, as the life bleeds out from the other; one second, two seconds, three—one last stuttered rasp of a breath, before everything falls silent.

 _Monster_ , the man had wanted to call him. _A monster made only to kill_.

“Monster,” Kagami repeats, a soft mutter, almost to himself as he retrieves his sword, pulling it out from between squelching flesh.

He lifts a hand up to the device nestled in his ear and presses, hears the soft dialing tone and speaks just as the line is picked up, before the other side can. “It’s done.”

“Just in time,” Aomine says from the other side. “I just sent Satsuki out on a grocery run so hurry and get your ass back here ‘cause I don’t think I can survive another homemade lunch of hers.”

Kagami lets out a soft laugh, lips curled into a grin. “No, no, wait, I think I can see a few more of them—”

“Dick,” Aomine says, but Kagami can hear the smile through the insult. “I’m giving you five minutes to get back or I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Make it seven.”

“You’ve got five,” and the line goes dead.

The smile lingers on Kagami’s lips, even as he casts one last glance towards the dead body by his feet.

 _Monster_ , he thinks to himself as he slowly makes his way home to the blatant stares of people passing by. _Monster_ , he thinks as he returns to the _You’re late, dammit, Satsuki’s already started—_ that Aomine hisses into his ear. _Monster_ , he thinks as he takes over the kitchen to Momoi’s pouting, to which he promises to let her make it next time.

 _I’m a monster_ , he thinks as he brings the food out and takes his place at their dinning table to the sounds of Momoi and Aomine happily digging in. _But at least they don’t mind_.


End file.
